


Miles Away

by ArkhamHorror



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Episode VII, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Tfa, The Force Awakens - Fandom, star wars: tfa
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff & Angst, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 21:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12756297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkhamHorror/pseuds/ArkhamHorror
Summary: Short fluffy one shot of Kylo being angsty. Involves cuddles. Takes place after TFA.





	Miles Away

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in forever and abandoned my other fics, so I give you this. Idk. It's a thing. -Shrug-

It was dark. It always is. He purposefully keeps the lights off, trying to hide from you every night, but you still aren’t sure why. You keep hoping that maybe someday he’ll change.

You hear him, off in the corner of the room. Such a short distance apart, but he feels miles away tonight. The metal click of his mask coming off, the release of his belt. A nightly ritual where he peels away the sins of the day to become vulnerable again. He’d never call it vulnerable, but you would.

Soon enough, he slides up next to you, sheets rustling softly. He’s gentle, so gentle. Surprisingly frail. His skin glides against yours briefly. It’s slick with a thin layer of sweat. His heavy armor leaves his body tired. Wordlessly, he draws you in tighter than normal. His arms curl around you in a desperate cry for attention. You couldn’t dare ask what happened today, so you return the embrace.

In the darkness, you reach for his face, but he stops you. His grip is firm on your wrist, a far cry from the fragile man he was just a moment ago. He doesn’t hurt you; he never does, but it startles you.

“Don’t,” He breathes. His voice is a tentative combination of anger and... fear.

“Ben...” You let his name slip from your lips, dragging off into an unfinished thought. What would you do? Ask what’s wrong? As if he’d say. So you stop.

“It’s nothing,” He replies, turning away. Did he read your mind or does he just know you that well?

You lean up on one elbow and defiantly reach across his body to caress his cheek anyway. You run your hand down his face softly and feel it. A new scar, fresh, but already cauterized and rough. Just another reminder for him that he can’t take off at night before bed.

And suddenly he’s crying. The liquid pools on your fingers unexpectedly and somehow you know exactly what’s happened, but you say nothing. There’s nothing to say. Kylo Ren doesn’t cry, at least not around other people, especially you. At least, in the darkness, you can pretend you don’t know. He’s quiet, not sniffling, nor breathing differently. You imagine he’s just staring into the emptiness that the night brings. Maybe that’s comforting, somehow.

You scoot your body closer to his again, spooning yourself against his bare back. Countless other scars mar his flesh, but you’ve never cared. This one is different for him, though. Your fingers dance across his chest, mutely consoling him in the best way you can. The best way he’ll accept. He grabs your hand, lighter this time, and brings it to his lips. He holds it there for an eternity, as if mulling over his next action. How can a man be so fierce, yet so broken?

His lips curl into a melancholy smile; you feel the change against your knuckles. He sighs, the warm burst of air tickling your palm like a ghost.

“I love you,” He mutters into your hand as if trying to stifle the phrase and you smile, placing a kiss timidly at the base of his neck.  


“I know.”


End file.
